


Hearts and Crowns (Are Heavy Burdens Both)

by bygoshbygolly



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Hearts, Loneliness, Post-Canon, Trick Or Treat Prompts Challenge, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bygoshbygolly/pseuds/bygoshbygolly
Summary: All is well in Lost Hope, but its King has begun to feel weighed down by loneliness for the world he left behind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/gifts).



The King of Lost Hope, who had once been called Stephen Black, buried his heart at midnight.

It was not a decision he made lightly. Indeed, he had held out for many years, unwilling to part with the organ that had beat in his chest for so long. He had treasured it, turning in disgust from the fairies with flames that danced in their chests or who kept their hearts in cages like birds.

But hearts are heavy things, and powerful, and they can be easily swayed. They hold memories the way sponges hold water, and the King’s heart was full of Stephen Black. All his pains, and hopes, and fears, every slight against him, every resentment harbored, every fondness he had felt for another; they all lived within the King’s heart, for they had lived in Stephen Black’s heart before him.

At first, he had kept those memories close, using the injustices that he had witnessed to fuel his mission to set Lost Hope to rights. He had listened to his heart as he made judgments upon his people, and negotiated with the lands that bordered his. His heart was his compass, more treasured than any jewel. There were times he would lay awake at night and listen to it beat, glorying in his heart: this symbol of humanity.

But hearts are heavy things, and as time passed the King began to feel weighed down by his. Though he had cast off his name, he could not cast off his past the same way. He began to long for London, for humanity. He found himself wondering what had become of Mrs. Brandy, and of Lady Pole. Freed from the influence of the Gentleman with the Thistledown Hair, his subjects had proven to be pleasurable enough company, but they were not human, and there were some things that they could never understand about him.

He would not risk becoming his tormentor, though. The King knew all too well how the best of intentions and most flattering of attentions could ruin another’s life, and he would not wish his own experiences on any other, no matter how lonely he sometimes felt. So he suppressed that loneliness, and began to search for a cure.

And so he found tales of humans who, while they lived in the world of Faerie, removed their hearts. It did not kill them, provided they took the proper precautions, for the same rules did not apply here as in the human world. The King asked questions of his advisers, as subtly as he could manage, about the possibility of such an operation proving successful, and was gratified to hear that at least two fairies had witnessed humans part from their hearts with no ill effect.

So the King of Lost Hope, who had once been called Stephen Black, buried his heart in the rich, dark earth under a yew tree. The soil would absorb his sorrows, and the yew would allow him to be truly reborn, without the trappings of his past. He would collect his heart in a fortnight, and feel light and new, ready to rule his kingdom with his whole being once more.

Already he felt lighter.


End file.
